


Gangster Territory

by furtherintofairytales



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, Darby Sabini - Freeform, Eventual violence, F/M, Fluff, Kinda, Swearing, a lot of it, all of the tropes ever, circling around obvious feelings, polly gray - Freeform, protective!alfie, slowish burn, you name it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:29:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furtherintofairytales/pseuds/furtherintofairytales
Summary: New to Camden Town, and having bad luck finding a job to pay her rent, Billie finds herself applying as a secretary for a bakery run by the city's most infamous gangster, Alfie Solomans. Beginning to understand that this bakery might not be all that it seems, Billie finds herself becoming entrapped by its owner, and the life he leads.
Relationships: Alfie Solomons/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 126





	1. Interview

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, all! It looks like I'm jumping on the bandwagon of Alfie/Secretary fics. Mostly because I think his character is absolutely amazing, and I want to explore so much with it. I don't plan on sticking to any certain plot or timeline from the show, but I'm definitely going to use some scenes to shape my own story. As always, I don't own Peaky Blinders, and I wouldn't know what to do with them if I did. Thanks for giving it a read!

Billie had been at a loss for what to do about acquiring a job since she had recently moved to Camden Town almost two weeks ago. Every job she was interested in already seemed to have a full staff; every storefront had its clerk, every pub was well equipped with a more-than-able barmaid, every office was kindly shoving paper after paper into its secretary’s face. And those who were accepting applications didn’t seem too keen on following through with the whole process, severely lacking in communication skills, Billie believed. 

Rent was due in less than two weeks, and although her father had left her with a quaint amount of money to get herself through, she was sure it was soon to be blown. 

Truthfully, Billie was beginning to lose hope, sure that she would be forced to move out of the city, back to her father’s drafty and abandoned cottage in the countryside. Her luck seemed to peak one night, however, when she was returning home from her best friend Gina’s house after a lovely dinner with her and her family. A flyer had all but smacked her in the face, having been picked up by a harsh gust of wind. ‘Bakery Secretary Wanted’ it read. ‘Inquire Through Phone Or Mail.’ 

__

“You want to work for Alfie fucking Solomans?” Gina had nearly shrieked when Billie had come for tea the following day. 

Wincing at the volume of her best friend’s voice, Billie sighed. “I honestly have no idea who that is. Besides, Gin, it’s just a bakery job, and it’s all that I can find.” 

“Sure, dear.” Gina quipped back, sarcasm apparent in her voice. “A bakery that hardly ever produces baked goods, run by one of the most feared men in the ole’ goodamned town. Ya know, I think you should apply, if only to find out what that man really gets up to. I’m not quite sure he uses those hands to knead bread, hon.”

“I’m sure it’s all perfectly legal,” Billie mumbled back, biting into a mouthful of pumpkin bread. 

__

Upon taking her first look at her potential place of employment, Billie knew that there was no bloody way this was a bakery. A factory was more like it, built specifically for storing scones by the thousands. Few men were lined up and down the exterior of the building, watching her intently as she made her way towards what she thought might be the main entrance. Lord help her if she had to go in search of an employment office, or something of the like. 

A lanky man stood within an open threshold, door held open by a storage crate as he engrossed himself in the clipboard held in his hands, small marks being made by his pen. Looking up as Billie approached, he seemed to straighten his posture, as if on guard. “Uh, hello. Are you here on bakery correspondence? Because that would be on the whole other side of this building,” the man paused slightly, an apologetic look adorning his face. “And I’m afraid they’ll be no passing through, sorry, Miss.”

“Erm, no.” Billie blinked. 

The man seemed to grow increasingly uncomfortable, weary eyes set on her slight form as if she could be considered a plausible threat. “Something else, then?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m sorry, my name is Billie Ingrid. I inquired about a secretary opening over the phone. I believe I talked to an Ollie, is he here?”

Taking a deep sigh of relief, the man’s face perked up with understanding. “Of course! I’m Ollie. You spoke with me, yeah.” Wiping a hand over his face, Billie could now see the bags under the small man’s eyes, glossed over in a slight sheet of sweat. “It’s been a long day. Time really has gotten away from me,” he said by way of apology. 

With a flick of his hand, Ollie motioned for Billie to follow him, past warehouse doors, up several flights of stairs before they came to a long, empty hall leading to a single office. 

Coming to a stop in front of a well-polished wooden door, Ollie held out a hand to stop Billie where she was. “Wait here a sec. I’ll go on and see if he’s ready for you.”

Billie watched as the man disappeared behind the door, unphased by the soft murmurs and long sighs coming from the other side of the wall. Looking around, she couldn’t quite figure out why a bakery needed to be this enormous. What type of confections were coming out of this man’s oven? And why was the town so scared of a bloody baker? Gina’s words ran rampant around her head. There was some truth evident in them. 

The girl’s musings were cut off by Ollie re-emerging from the office, ushering her inside. 

“Right.” A man with an imposing figure loomed over a large oak-desk. His eyes were set firmly on the papers in front of him, pen making lazy checks, as his attention remained far away from the girl just before him. 

The light from a small lamp on the wall behind his shoulder just barely illuminated his face, allowing Billie to see the scruff of the man’s beard, as well as the hard lines of his jaw and his face peeking out from underneath it. She couldn’t help but acknowledge to herself how handsome he was, allowing herself to become fixated on the way his muscles moved under the slightly rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt. 

“Do you have a name?” He started after a long pause.

“Billie, Sir. Billie Ingrid.”

The man before her looked up from his papers, a crease between his eyebrows. Had he not expected a woman? 

“You’re a baker, then?”

“Oh? No-”

Ollie moved to interrupt, but his boss had already put his pen down, hands moving to play with his beard. “Then may I be so blunt as to ask what the fuck you’re doing here?”

Billie watched as Ollie swept a hand over his face.

Turning back to the man before her, she set her chin straight and leveled her eyes with his. “Mr. Solomons, is it?” She didn’t give him time to answer. “I came on behalf of a secretary position that was advertised on a flyer around the city.”

“Well, it’s not my fucking flyer, sweetheart.”

“Alfie,” Ollie cut in. “Yes, it is. It’s your flyer.”

“Since when the fuck, Ollie, do I need a bloody secretary?”

Ollie looked as if he wanted to throw himself out of a window, utterly defeated by the day, and his boss’ behavior. “Alfie. You asked me just the other day to put word out for a secretary, you did. A secretary to handle the bakery work.”

“The bakery, yeah?” Alfie looked towards Ollie for confirmation. A look was passed between the duo, and something seemed to go off in Alfie’s head before turning back to Billie. “Right. My head’s somewhere else today it seems. Sorry, Miss.”

Relieved by the clear up, Billie couldn’t help but giggle slightly. This was the man that everyone was so afraid of? She shook her head slightly by way of showing that she understood. 

The man seemed at a loss for words for a second, his eyes planted firmly on her soft face. Clearing his throat after another second lapsed into silence, he continued on. “Hm, so you’re qualified, then?

“I believe so, Mr. Solomons. I used to handle some of the paperwork for my father’s law office before he passed. Legal documents and such.”

“Are you Jewish?” Alfie inquired.

Afraid that this was a qualification, Billie blanched. “No. I mean, my mother was Jewish, but I never really practiced much. Her not being around…” Billie trailed off, not wanting to overshare.

“But not your father?” Ollie rolled his eyes at his boss, seeing that the girl was obviously uncomfortable. 

“No. He was just… him.”

“Ollie, you bring me a godless woman?” His eyes never once leaving the woman’s before him.

Billie felt as if she should take a slight offence, but she saw the twinkle playing in the large man’s eyes, letting her know that he was only joking. 

“Not godless, I assure you, Mr. Solomons. Just lacking in worship is all.”

Alfie held in a cough, slight amusement mixed with mischief on his hard features. He looked as if he'd give her something to worship. 

“You start Monday morning, Miss Ingrid. Eight AM sharp,” he pointed his finger in her direction. “Don’t fucking be late.” She nodded in understanding. “And luv, do come up the way you did earlier, yeah? The bakers won’t take too kindly to a new bird in their space now, will they?” He said it lightly, but she could see that something grave danced behind his eyes. 

“Absolutely, Mr. Solomons. Thank you so much, you have no idea how hard it is to find a job in this city.”

His mouth fell slightly open at her enthusiasm. “Right. Well, fuck off now, will you? I have me own work to do, don’t I? 

Ollie let out yet another relieved sigh, winking in Billie’s direction as she walked out the way she came, laughing slightly to herself.


	2. Working Conditions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I'm finally back with a new chapter! I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone who commented, it really means a lot, and it inspires me to keep writing while taking all of my classes. I don't usually write a lot of stories, as my focus is mainly on poetry, but I like to think of this as practice, so I hope you don't mind me learning as I go. 
> 
> This chapter is focused primarily on getting Billie acquainted with her working conditions, and framing a foundation for her and Alfie's relationship so that I can move on into the plot. Hope you like it!

Billie’s first day working for the bakery had been uneventful, though she wasn’t entirely sure what she had been expecting. Well, maybe a bakery for one thing. But after the way Mr. Solomons had warned her against wandering around anywhere besides the office space, and well, the stairway on her way in and out, she was certain that a tour was out of the question. 

She managed to get in a little before eight o’clock, settling herself at what she assumed to be her desk just outside of Mr. Solomons’ office. There was already paperwork neatly piled and waiting for her. A short stack that she shifted through without much trepidation. Coming across a small roster of employees, each with the labeled position of baker, Billie found it a little strange that there were only five names on the list, considering that she had seen countless men come and go this morning alone. Surely her boss employed more men than he was keeping track of. The first wave of uneasiness worked its way up through her body in a shiver. What did the other men do if they weren’t bakers? 

Mr. Solomons had arrived only minutes after Billie did. Although curiosity ate away at the sides of her mind, she decided to keep her questions at bay, content to wave the man over in her direction. 

Almost as if he didn’t see her, Mr. Solomons began to walk past her at first, his form slightly hunched over to one side, one leg favored over the other. Yet, he was no less intimidating than the first time she saw him, all sprawled out in his chair behind his desk. 

Doing a double take, Alfie almost tripped over himself, clearly surprised to see her fresh-faced and beaming so early in the morning. 

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, aren’t you, luv.” His legs seemed to shuffle uncomfortably, weight shifting from one to the other before he came closer, lingering, his body a little too close to her person. Looking over the pile of paperwork she held in her hands, he hummed quietly. “You’re already settled in then, I see.”

Nodding, Billie smiled softly, far too overwhelmed by the man’s close proximity to answer. He smelled like teakwood, and spice, mixed with the evaporating air of the cool September wind outside.

“You’ll find most of the work to be straightforward.” Alfie cleared his throat, reaching around her to pick up some of the discarded pieces of paper thrown haphazardly across her desk. “Simple stuff, really. Payroll for the boys, some inventory ‘erry now and then. Most important thing,” he emphasized. “Once the work is done, you’re done. Don’t need you hangin’ round for nothing, now do we?” 

“This… this is all you need me to do? Not that I’m complaining Mr. Solomons, really. But it seems kind of pointless to waste money on paying my wage when you could just as easily do these things yourself.”

Alfie hummed in agreement, though he didn’t seem to be deterred by her assessment. “Have more important things to do I suppose.” Turning on his heel, he made to enter his office, only stopping briefly to look back at Billie once more. “We’ll talk salary before you leave, alright?”

Billie hadn’t realized she’d been holding in a breath until the door closed to his office, officially leaving her outside on her own.  
__

Things had gone fairly well since Billie’s first day, though nothing seemed to pick up in excitement. Every now and then she’d see or hear something that reminded her of Gina’s words when she first announced she was interviewing for the job, but she only ever caught glimpses, trying her best to remain innocent of suspicion. 

Sometimes she would hear Mr. Solomons giving his workers strange jobs, what he would call “special deliveries,” though she never saw any of the men leave with anything besides the handgun tucked into the waistband of their pants. 

On other occasions, strange men dressed in nice suits would come around looking for Alfie. She’d hear Ollie and the men conversing at the bottom of the stairs, Alfie’s right-hand man assuring the gentlemen that his boss would be down in a moment, entertaining them by offering them a tour of the warehouse below. 

Dismissing these instances for a later time, Billie thought it best not to question her boss about anything she saw until she was sure of what was actually going on. In the meantime, she found that she couldn’t complain much about Mr. Solomons, or Alfie as he insisted she call him. He was more than generous with her wage, allowing her to not only meet her rent every month, but to meet all the other necessities that came along with living in Camden Town, as well. She lived rather comfortably if she was being honest. 

Having been true to his word, Alfie allowed her to go home once her small pile of paperwork was finished for the day. Although her hours fluctuated, her pay never seemed to differ weekly. She’d give the man one thing: he took care of his own.

Many afternoons she’d peek her head into his office, ready to wish him a goodnight, only to see both he and Ollie surrounded by piles of their own paperwork, along with uncounted money, and few boxes of unopened inventory. 

“I thought all the inventory was in from last Friday,” Billie inquired, causing both pairs of eyes to look up towards her lingering form in the doorway. 

“What’s that, sweetheart?” Alfie looked innocently confused. 

“I ordered inventory on Friday. Yeast, sugar, oil. Everything. What’s all this?” Billie gestured towards the half-opened boxes sprawled lazily across Alfie’s office. 

“Rum.” Alfie answered simply. 

“Rum?” Both Ollie and Billie questioned at the same time, Billie’s expression of curiosity not matching that of Ollie’s wide eyes. 

“Yes, Billie, rum.” Lounging back in his chair, Alfie looked as if it was obvious. “We are now making rum cake in this bakery. Me mum’s own recipe, yeah.”

“Oh. Well, shouldn’t I be made aware of things like this?” Alfie’s eyes seemed to light up at the way Billie pursed her lips, one hand coming up to place on her hip. “No, wait. Shouldn’t I be the one telling you about these things? Just this morning you had a meeting with Billy Kitchen, and I had no idea until you were already in said meeting.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know I had a meeting with Mr. Kitchen this morning either, that is until the big fucker came ‘round slamming his fists against my door, demanding I speak with him immediately. The fucking balls on that one, let me tell you.” 

“Well, it would be nice if he scheduled with me like the rest of the boys, that’s all I’m saying. I don’t need to walk in on two men coming to blows first thing in the morning, you know.”

Ollie snickered. “The boys only come to you because it gives them an excuse to come up here and see you, Bil.” 

Alfie threw a look over his shoulder, eyes intense as he glared at Ollie. “You let them bother her?”

Ollie made to speak, but not before Billie cut in. 

“They don’t bother me, Alfie,” she assured. “Sometimes Isaac comes up after he drops you off, and asks me how my night was. Or Davey will bring me toast for breakfast.”

“Bloody ‘ell, woman. You’ve made my whole crew gone soft.” Alfie rubbed a hand over his face in agitation. 

“Oh, please. They’re just being nice.”

“Nice, yeah. Gonna have a talk with the lot of them.”

Sighing, Billie pushed herself off of the doorframe she’d been leaning on, turning on her heel. “Not necessary, boss.” She swept her hand back towards Alfie and Ollie in a goodbye. “Goodnight to you, gentlemen.” She prayed that neither could see the redness rising in her cheeks at Alfie’s protectiveness. 

She felt eyes on her back the whole while she walked away. 

___

Billie found that she couldn’t complain about her working conditions either. 

Sometimes Gina could get her husband, Ken to take the kids for the evening, content with leftovers to get them through supper. Then she, Billie, and some of her work friends would head out for drinks. All of the girls except Billie would be utterly exhausted after leaving their job in a small factory just on the outskirts of London. 

Billie distinctly remembered a night a couple of weeks back when Gina’s friend, Victoria had nursed a chilled glass of gin against her forehead, explaining the horribly stifling atmosphere of the place. Both Gina and her other friend, Isabelle nodded along solemnly, giving accounts of the many bodies that weaved their way in and out of each other's faces, always too close, making it hard to breathe in the pungent air. 

Having been sympathetic, Billie offered to buy the next couple rounds of drinks, hoping to distract the girls from the conditions they had just left. After all, they were out to have fun. But listening in, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for her small space, tucked just outside of Alfie’s office. 

Though as the weather started growing colder in London, so did the drafty and empty hallway where Billie did her work. No matter how many layers she put on, the chill never seemed to go away.

“Oi,” Alfie had called over to her one morning. He stood before her in a long, black jacket, buttons undone, revealing one of his signature white shirts tight against his torso. His dog Cyril rested by his side.

“You sick, luv? You’re shivering like anything.” 

“No,” Billie sniffed. “Just cold.”

Frowning slightly, Alfie watched the girl in front of him’s teeth chatter. “S’no colder than yesterday. Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”

Slight irritation crossed over Billie’s face as she looked up at Alfie once more. “I usually do,” she spoke with a small huff. “But I was already running late this morning when I realized I forgot it. I didn’t want to risk going back.”

Rolling his eyes at the girl’s need for punctuality, Alfie started shuffling out of his jacket, passing Cyril’s lead from one hand to the other to get both arms out of their sleeves. 

“Take this, that’s a good girl. Can’t have people talking, say I don’t treat my employees right.” 

Billie accepted Alfie’s jacket with minimal hesitancy, clearly surprised by the gesture, but too cold to question it, lest he get uncomfortable and take her only source of warmth back. 

Avoiding her grateful eyes, Alfie looked around, noting the size of the desk compared to the size of his door’s threshold. “Suppose I should set you up in my office. Seems stupid to have you out here on your own, weather’s only going to get worse.”

Billie’s eyes went wide with concern over their agreed upon system. If anyone was scheduled to see Alfie for a meeting, or if any of the workers had a problem, they’d go through her first to get to him. 

“What if someone comes to check in for a meeting or something? They couldn’t possibly check in from your office.”

“Bloody ‘ell, woman.” Alfie ran a hand through his hair in incredulous surprise. “I’m concerned about you catching your death out here, right, and you want to make sure the check in process stays orderly.”

“I just don’t want some poor lad who’s never met you to… Well, walk in on you in one of your moods.” Billie teased lightly. 

“Right. You can stay out here, then.” Alfie walked away, pulling Cyril with him while muttering something about her never having seen him in one of his moods. 

She swore she saw his lips quirk up slightly just before he descended into his office.  
__

It wasn’t until later that day that Billie was officially moved into the office, her small desk tucked tightly into the far right corner of the room. It had taken no less than a long stream of curses, whispered like prayers out of both the mouths of Alfie and Ollie to get the desk through the doorway.

“Maybe if you could heave together, then pivot slightly to your right. You two are clearly out of synch,” Billie had teased Alfie from the chair behind his own desk. 

Alfie had blatantly stared back at the girl, his body hunched over the desk, one arm braced on the top, while the other grasped his bad hip. “You want to give it a try, sweetheart? Since you’re so fucking good with furniture arrangement?” 

Billie just bit her lip, content to run her hands through Cyril’s fur as the boys did all of the hard work. She had just discarded his jacket on the back of the chair, content to curl up and let her mind wander through thoughts of her employer. Alfie wasn’t anything that Gina said he’d be. He wasn’t cruel or unintentionally mean. Though he was gruff, he only ever showed her kindness and concern. Whatever spats he and Ollie had were usually patched up by the end of the day, and the two even seemed to be friends. She found that she fit in quite well with their banter, and was even allowed to tease Alfie with the encouraging laughter of Ollie echoing in the air around her. Maybe Gina was wrong. 

__  


It wasn’t until later that week that Billie finally saw the side of Alfie Solomons that all of London talked about. 

His anger wasn’t directed at her, not initially, but she, like everyone else in the vicinity felt the ripples of it. 

Billie had finally just come to the conclusion that the bakery was definitely a front for something far more sinister than Alfie had led on. Although he gave hints of the bakery being a minor part of his production, emphasizing his time put to better use among the other parts, he never came right out and said what that work might be. 

But he was getting too sloppy in his effort to hide it from her, trusting her to take notes while sitting in on some of his meetings. Asking her opinion about the man on the other side of his desk, with his extravagant offers of nightclubs and hotels to buy, luxury restaurants and dive bars. Alfie even led on that he may already own a few, and Billie was itching to know if she’s ever visited one.

There were some meetings in the books that Billie wasn’t allowed to sit in on, and these peaked her interest the most. Often, when the occasion arose, Alfie would kindly tell her to take the rest of the day off, assuring her that Ollie would finish off her small pile of work, the good lad he was. The small protests she put up were met with deep chuckles, humoring her if nothing else.

The beginning of the end happened when the warehouse doors to the “bakery” had been left open one morning as she arrived, an even bigger crowd of men circling Alfie as he raised a glass of dark liquid, toasting in praise to another batch well-made. 

She had hurried up to his office, setting herself to work before he could turn his head and see her witnessing him at work. His real work. 

When he entered the office and greeted her with a “good mornin,’ sweetheart,” she had smiled up at him, her nostrils filled with the scent of teakwood and spices, mixing slightly with the stench of rum.

Of course she planned to confront him that day, but he had left for a meeting before she could approach the subject. When his shouts could be heard from the warehouse below, continuing on in a melody of curses, his heavy footsteps climbing the stairs, unevenly and viciously, she decided today just might not be the day. 

The door to his office was slammed open, causing Cyril to jump up. Startled, he circled his way around to Billie, coming to sit in front of her, looking incapable of doing much else besides trying to act intimidating.

Alfie never even glanced in their direction once, storming firmly over to his desk, all while muttering to himself about unsatisfying meetings and the nerve of some men to assert themselves at his own damn place of business.

Flipping through various stacks of paper, he tore through everything on his desk looking for this one thing. Unhappy with his findings, he moved to the cabinets behind him, flinging paperweights, and pens, opening and then slamming drawers. 

Slamming his hand against his safe behind his desk, Billie yelped in surprise. 

The sound made Alfie aware of both her and Cyril’s presence. Breathing in a shaky gulp of air, he all but rounded on her. 

“I thought I told you to leave early for the day.” His voice wasn’t a growl, but one could mistake it for one. 

“You didn’t tell me anything, Alfie.” Billie took a precautionary step back, feeling too much like prey in the way that he looked at her. 

“No, I did. I really think I did, luv.” his eyes were thunderous. Frustration taking control of his actions, he kept up his stride towards her, uncaring of the way she shrudded back. While aware of the fact that he wouldn’t hurt her, she was no less intimidated by the way he placed both palms on the surface of the desk on either side of her body, swallowing her with his much bigger figure. She was practically sitting on the edge, with the way he bent his head down towards her, towering over her. 

“I’m your boss, right? Right. So when I say to fucking go home, I mean it.” 

“Alfie...”

“No. No. Fucking no, Luv. You go home, you go home now.”

“Alfie. You never said a word. I have a pile of work to get done. I can’t just leave. I can’t pack up and go because you think I need a day off.”

“Darlin,’” Alfie tried to take a deep breath. He was so close to Billie that she could feel the heat of it against her skin. “There, right, are men downstairs. Bad fucking men, and if they see you I don’t know what the fuck they’ll do or say.”

“And you’re not a bad man?” Billie lifted her chin, her light eyes peering into his darker ones. She saw something flash in them, something predatory rising subtly, then shift into something more reserved. 

“Yeah, Billie. I’m a bad fucking man. But as bad as I am, I’m nowhere near as bad as those men are.” Alfie’s voice was a thunderous husk vibrating low in his chest against Billie. 

“Right,” Billie nodded as if understanding, but instead she pressed on, knowing that she should be afraid of the man in front of her. She wasn’t. “So this is about your ‘personal’ business, yeah?”

“Billie,” Alfie pushed himself off of the girl, allowing her to pick herself up from where she was leant back against the desk. He grabbed at his beard, rubbing his jaw. “Yes, but that, right, is none of your business. Your business is with the bakery, and those men down there,” Alfie pointed his thumb back towards the door, “don’t want anything to do with the bakery.”

“Not even the rum cakes?” Billie cracked. “Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You’re a rumrunner.” 

Alfie felt the need to point out that he personally wasn’t a rumrunner, but many of his men were. Instead he remained silent, chest still heaving as he tilted his head to one side, wanting to know exactly how she found out. 

“You were never really subtle,” Billie clarified. 

“I was never meant to be subtle. What I do, I do, alright. What comes and goes around here comes and goes.” They were nearly face to face again, heads bent towards each other, chests seeming to gravitate together like one heartbeat sounding between two different bodies. “But you’re supposed to have the good fucking sense to not ask questions.”

“So let’s say I don’t have that sense, what happens then?”

Alfie outright laughed, his forehead almost touching hers. “Well, I guess that’d mean you were out of a job, yeah?”

Scoffing, Billie jabbed a finger into her boss’s chest. “I’m as much involved in this as anyone, don’t you think? And you know I can help you, so why not let me in and let me be a part of this.” She wasn’t purposefully trying to get a rise out of him, but she found that every time she said something he didn’t like, he’d push just a little closer as if willing her to stop talking. She liked how she could just about breathe him in, feeling hot spots on her body wherever he touched her. She was playing with fire, but she felt drunk, knowing that the fire was her boss. 

Catching her hand in his, he brought it to his chest. “You’re part of whatever keeps you safe.” All of the frustration in him had deflated. “I take it you’re not gonna go off and run your little mouth. So yeah, you know. But you can’t be around men like Sabini-” he sighed.

“Sabini?” Billie drew back slightly. “Is that the man you’re with downstairs?”

“Yeah… why?” Alfie looked confused. 

Catching the man’s confusion, Billie removed herself from his grip, side-stepping Cyril to slide around her desk. “It’s just that you came in here looking for something right? Well, I was going through some papers earlier, and I saw his name on one.” Searching through her pile of papers, she pulled one out from the stack, extending it towards Alfie. “Bookie licenses, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Alfie cleared his throat, looking over the paper Billie had given her. “Thank you.”

“Maybe I could be of some help,” Billie beamed up at Alfie. 

“Fucking ‘ell,” Alfie side-stepped Billie, grabbing her coat and her bag. Slinging her bag over his shoulder, he helped her into her coat before handing it back to her. “Go on home, luv. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“So I’m still employed?’ Billie teased.

“Bloody woman,” Alfie grumbled. “Off you go now, no lingering ‘round, that’s a good girl.”

Billie shook her head humorously, “Good night, Alfie.”

He waved her a goodbye, before running a hand through his already disheveled hair. Resisting the urge to watch her as she walked away like he always did, he sighed. She’d be the death of him if he wasn’t careful.


	3. Questions Only Bring Up More Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I'm back. Classes have been brutal as usual, but I put all my effort into finishing this chapter this weekend, so I hope you enjoy! Also, yet again, I deeply appreciate all of your comments. It genuinely makes me happy to see that you're all enjoying the story thus far.

Billie had gone straight home after her heated exchange with Alfie.

That was not before she caught a glimpse of the notorious Darby Sabini as she descended the stairs from the office. Even being new to London, she had quickly become aware of the name, and the weight of fear that held onto its reputation. From what people said about him, he was worse than Alfie, which made the Italian pretty fucking lethal. 

She heard his voice first, sly and laced with vicious rhythm. Ducking her head around the stairs, his form lingered in the doorway, a neatly tailored, pin-stripped suit, and fedora placed purposefully on his head. She was sure that Alfie could take him in a fight if they ever came to blows, though she never heard of a situation that two men couldn’t handle with a gun. 

Watching him for a while, she followed the way he snapped quips at Ollie, asking what was keeping the ole’ boss so long. He stood tall, commanding, though he was much shorter than Alfie’s confidant. Something about him was calculating, yet Ollie didn’t seem perturbed by the man’s character, leaning lazily against the wall while the leader of London’s Italian gang strutted and plucked about, waiting. 

As if feeling eyes on him, the Italian turned his head towards the stairway on which Billie watched him from. She turned her back immediately, refusing him the chance to see her face, pretending that she had just now descended from the stairs she originally came from, preceding to scurry out of the warehouse doors. Hopefully, Alfie’s footsteps behind her made the rush of actions far more believable. 

As she walked away, she decided she only liked the way Alfie’s eyes felt on her back. If she had turned around, confusion lay clear on Sabini’s face, noticeable to both Ollie and the freshly arrived Jewish gangster. 

“Oi,” Alfie called over to Sabini, a crease forming on his eyebrows. “What are you looking at?”

“‘Ose that?” Sabini watched the way Billie’s skirt swayed in the wind.

“My secretary,” Alfie tried to remain nonchalant. “What concern is she to you?”

“None of course. Just like the way she walks is all.”

“Fuck off, mate.” Ollie was thankful that Sabini couldn’t see the vein protruding out of Alfie’s forehead, just under the brim of his own hat.

__

Once Billie had finally gotten home - heart racing with the images of Sabini’s eyes flashing through her head, cunning and beady - she found herself restless. Tidying up things that didn’t need tidying up, and checking for mail when she knew that she had none. She tried to sit down on the edge of her bed, but she’d only end up staring into the vanity mirror across from her.

Every time she looked at her face, she wondered how the fuck she ended up in a situation in which she was the secretary to one of the most dangerous men in London. Even more scary was her refusal to walk away from the situation. If her father was still alive, he’d have some choice words for her, she was sure. Nothing but respectable he was, and now she was out here running around with criminals, tainting his name. 

But she just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Alfie, nor the concern blatant in his eyes when he told her that he wanted her safe. Or the way he towered over her, consuming her with his body, only breaths away from touching. She shouldn’t feel so intoxicated by a man she barely knew. A man who did bad things and hid them from the rest of the world. 

Yet, she could still feel his chest steady against hers, the heat radiating off of him that had almost made it hard for her to breathe.

She wasn’t stupid, she knew his hands were stained with blood, the ghosts of his crimes lingering on him in the way that he walked. He wore them with honor, not with shame. And yet, those same hands had always been so gentle with her, so firm, always grazing over her arm or against the small of her back like he needed to know that she was there with him.

And she was there with him. A lot of her time at the bakery was spent in their office, shuffling through paperwork, giggling at his low grumbles and laughing even harder when he turned her way, face void of amusement. He’d begin to crack a smile, the harder she laughed, often pondering her sanity. 

Sometimes, Billie couldn’t tell if she was imagining the tension between them, apparent to her in the way he’d grasp her hips, trying to squeeze by her to reach a book or file. Or in the way he’d pull her out of his chair, her chest flush against his, as he held her in place a little longer than necessary. 

The bakery boys would still bring her toast on some days, popping into the office only when their boss was in a good mood. Alfie would often show his dissatisfaction with their presence the more they made Billie laugh, grunting out some comment about bread not being able to bake itself. She couldn’t help but suspect that these comments were rooted in some sort of jealousy. 

It’d be a lie to say she minded. Although he wasn’t the biggest man in the warehouse, his presence made him appear bigger than he really was. He was still packed with muscle, arms toned and strong around her. She found him utterly gorgeous, especially when his blue eyes sparkled when they found hers. 

Sighing, Billie kicked herself out of her musings. It was unavoidable, she had to admit to herself that she had a crush on Alfie, and that she had no idea if any of his words or actions were intentional. If he felt the same way. 

__

Opening the curtains in her bedroom, Billie let the mid-afternoon light flutter in as she went to put a kettle on for tea. She decided against spending the rest of her night pining over one of the most dangerous men in London. After all, where could it possibly get her, besides heartbroken.

She did consider giving Gina a ring to tell her about the events of the day, though she didn’t end up following through with it. Of course half the city of London already knew about Alfie, but the thought of giving any confirmation to their claims was a frightening one. People could muse all they wanted if all that came out of it was musings. Gina was trustworthy, sure, but she was also a woman who loved her gossip. 

After settling into a nook by a window, Billie began reading, finding solace in the words of others, and in the stories of adventure and romance being told. Billie loved living in the hustle and bustle of the city, but sometimes the dreariness of London hit hard for a country girl. Sometimes she needed an escape. 

That escape only lasted for so long, however. It was around seven o’clock when a knock sounded at her front door. Lifting her head up from her book, Billie padded over to the foyer, looking briefly through the little peep-hole in the center to find a familiar long black jacket, hands stuffed into trouser pockets, and a lightly-worn white shirt peeking out from behind a black waistcoat. 

Opening the door, Billie tentatively stepped out onto her front step. “Alfie?”

Picking up his head from where he was looking down, he rocked back slightly on the balls of his feet. A small smile came to play on his face as he took in her disheveled state from having been lounging around all afternoon. 

“That’d be me, luv.”

“How did you find out where I lived?”

“S’pose I tend to keep tabs on my staff, in my line of business and all.” He cleared his throat. “Look, ah, I’m not interruptin’ anything now am I?” Alfie peeked his head around her, looking into the ajar door, as if expecting someone else to be inside. 

“Oh, no. I was just reading… Is everything okay, Alfie?” Folding her arms across her chest, Billie looked concerned.

“Everything’s fine.” Alfie shuffled nervously, lifting his hat with one hand, while using the other hand to run through his hair. “I was just thinking that we,” he pointed his finger between the two of them. “Didn’t really get a chance to talk anything through from this afternoon, yeah. And I’m sure that you probably have questions. I was thinking’ right, I was thinkin’ maybe we could get a drink n’ patch all of this up?”

Billie beamed, “sure, let me just fix all this.” She gestured towards herself.

Leaving the door open as if inviting Alfie in, Billie twirled back inside. He watched her go, content to stuff his hands back into his trouser pockets, leaning against the stair railing while she got ready. 

Alfie had been rattled during the whole of his meeting with Sabini. Billie got him fired up and calmed him down all at once, and as much as he wanted to keep her away from any of the dirty deeds involving his business, he couldn’t help but admit that she would be an asset. She was smart, professional, and was the only person he knew that didn’t make his anger flare up with just a couple of words. 

If he was being perfectly honest, he didn’t think he could let her go if he tried. There was just something about her that continuously pulled him in. She wasn’t innocent, not in the way some women tutted around naively, but she wasn’t tainted like him either. Sometimes he wondered if just touching her would taint her skin, damning her soul just like his. And sometimes he vowed to never let her become anything to him, lest she be used as a pawn against him. Admittedly, he was doing a shit job at the last part.

Billie came back out only a couple of minutes later, coat slung over her arm, her lips twitching up in a shy smile. “Where to Mr. Solomons?” 

Pushing up off of the railing, he escorted her to the car which was devoid of any driver. “Thought I’d show you one of mine.” He opened the door before helping her in. 

“I knew you owned something, what is it? A dive bar? A club?”

He stalled before closing the door, a small smirk pinching at the sides of his lips as he scoffed. “You really think I’d bring you to one of those places?”

“Yes,” she quipped back. 

“Bloody woman,” he closed the door, making his way over to his driver’s side all while shaking his head. 

__

As it turns out, he did not in fact take her to any clubs or dive bars, though he was sure to tell her all about his prospects while on the way to their destination.

“The distillery is only one tenth of your income?” Billie’s mouth almost fell open. “I’ve seen the bakery’s accounts, Alfie. Isn’t that more than enough?”

“Well you see now, in order to remain one of the most dominating men in London, right, you need to make yourself adaptable.” He looked over at her, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel. “Men like rum, yeah. But men also like protection, they like other men to do their dirty work for them, mhm, men like to gamble.”

“And you’re not one of those men?”

“Well for one, I don’t much care to drink, but when I do, I prefer whiskey. Rum is fucking awful, innit? Nothing pleasant about it; not even smooth when it burns.”

“And you do the dirty work,” Billie offered. 

“And I do the fucking dirty work,” he affirmed. Billie thought she heard a hint of regret in his voice, but she was almost definitely mistaking. 

A silence then began to lull between the two of them for a moment, Billie not realizing that Alfie had stopped the car until his eyes were on hers, the color lost in the darkness of the nighttime, but still sparkling with intrigue. 

“Right, well,” he sniffed, breaking contact. “Here we are.”

__

Alfie helped Billie out of the car just as he had helped her in. Lacing her arm around his, her hand gripped his bicep delicately, and he felt heat rise up on the spot. In that moment, the feeling was so intense that he had to resist the urge to draw back from her. 

“Are you okay?” Billie asked when she heard his intake of breath.

“Right, just fine.” Alfie’s voice was strained as he led her inside. 

He couldn’t help but gage her expression as she passed through the threshold of the building, her eyes going wide in response to the interior. 

The pub wasn’t extravagant or posh, that wouldn’t have been Alfie’s style. It was small, with dimly-lit lighting, wood accenting the walls, both of a lighter and a darker coated finish. Two large bar-tops adorned both sides of the room, the space in between latent with small tables and benches. In the corners of the rooms sat darkened booths, the only source of light being candles lit in the middle of the tables, devoted to shadowed ambiance. For business, Billie concluded, while the rest of the pub was secluded from that secrecy. 

Everyone greeted Alfie with a “Mr. Solomons,” followed by a nod of their head. As he stood to talk to who looked to be the pub’s manager, the man being greeted with a clap on his back, Billie kept catching small details that were so naturally Alfie, though she was sure he wasn’t the architect of the decor. 

It smelt of burnt spiced rum and musk, the atmosphere loud with the laughter of men cheers-ing their pints. There were women laughing around tables, eyes drawn over to the young men who stood propped up against the bar, a wink or two being passed over the room as small giggles were submerged by whopping whistles from the boys. 

“This is all yours?” Billie breathed as a young man showed her and Alfie over to one of the booths in the corner. 

“I bought it with me own money, didn’t I?” Alfie winked down at her.

“Did you design this?”

“Nah, I bought it like this.” Billie felt his hand hovering over the small of her back. Every now and then he’d lightly push her just a little bit ahead of him, eyes cast towards the men leaned with their backs against the bar, stood watching them, a silent warning passed their way.

“It’s a legal venture actually. Most bars like these, right, you find outside of Camden territory, and sometimes the women aren’t protected outside me own territory. So I just thought, right, I’d put my name in for one of ‘em, give something back to this ole’ town.”

“The women?” Billie questioned as Alfie gestured for her to slide into the booth. He liked this table, being in the far right corner of the room. Facing the door, his eyes could remain focused on anyone who decided to come and go. “You mean Jewish women.”

Alfie shrugged, hanging her coat up on one of the hooks beside the booth. “Yeah- what are you smiling at?” He was looking at her like she was crazy. 

Shaking her head, Billie watched as Alfie finally settled in. “No, it’s nothing.”

“No, wha?” 

“It’s just. You’re this big bad gangster, right?”

Alfie nodded his head as if obvious. 

“But you bought a bar so that people could be protected within their own territory.”

“That and money,” Alfie tried to avoid her sparkling eyes. “Don’t go on trying to make me a good person, sweet. I’ll only end up disappointing you.” he added gruffly 

Billie only hummed, her light eyes unconvinced. There was more to Alfie Solomans than his reputation let on. Sure, she didn’t know the extent to which he ran his businesses, she couldn’t even begin to imagine the worst thing he’s ever done. But when he was with her, and he was just Alfie, she couldn’t really find it within herself to care. 

__

The pair ordered drinks from an overzealous waiter who chose to focus all of his attention onto Billie. 

“Can I get you something, Darling,” he was no more than nineteen years old, and the shit-eating grin plastered on his face made Alfie want to throw a fist through it. 

“Uhm, I’ll just do a gin and tonic, please.” She looked to Alfie, silently waiting for him to order.

But Alfie didn’t get a word out before the waiter’s smile got even bigger. “First one’s on the house, how about that, love?”

“That’s just lovely, mate.” Alfie pretended to chuckle, gaining the attention of the boy. “Except it’s all going on the house, innit? I fucking own it. Now fuck off and get the lady her drink, and while you’re at it, whiskey fucking neat for me, yeah.”

The waiter’s smile disappeared in a heartbeat as he scurried off to do exactly what he was told. 

“Alfie,” Billie chastised. “You could be a little nicer, he’s only a kid.” Although she didn’t approve of Alfie’s behavior, she couldn’t help but giggle at the way he mumbled under his breath about grubby little boys employed in his own fucking pub, though she’d be sure to keep him from escalating the situation any further when the waiter came back.

“I assume you have questions, then.” Alfie offered. 

“A few.” Billie answered simply.

“Well go on.” Alfie looked expectant. 

“Is there actually a bakery?”

Alfie looked upwards as if having to think the question over, hand coming to play in his beard, before he nodded an affirming “yes.” 

Billie rolled her eyes playfully. “Am I allowed to see it?”

“I never said that you weren’t allowed to see it,” he plucked his and Billie’s drink off of the tray that the waiter brought around, giving the boy one last side glance before turning back to Billie. “I said you weren’t allowed to wander, it’s different, innit? Besides,” he added. “If I showed you the bakery, you’d wonder what the fuck the warehouse was for.”

Billie shrugged, nursing her glass to her lips. “I already knew the business was shady,” she muttered. “It was only a matter of time before I found out what was really going on.”

“Mm, clever girl.” He brought his own drink up to his lip, teeth gritting as the amber liquor went down. “What else?”

“The men who work in the warehouse, they make the rum?”

“Aye. Some make the rum, some are runners, others are Thomas Shelby’s men, there for whatever the fuck I need them for. Billy Kitchen, for example, Shelby’s man. Sometimes he’s in the warehouse, sometimes he’s needed to get his hand’s a bit dirty.” He took another sip of his drink. “And sometimes, luv, the boss gets his hands dirty, right, and he needs someone to get rid of the evidence, so to speak.”

Billie looked down at her hands clasped around her glass before looking back up to Alfie. “Who’s Thomas Shelby? Is he another boss like you?”

Alfie’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Why? You interested or somethin’?”

“No, Alfie, no.” Billie rolled her eyes, less playful this time. “I think I’ve heard that name before. Before I came to London, I just can’t quite put my finger on where.”

“That’s impossible, luv. ‘E’s not big, ya know. ‘E’s just a gypsy from Birmingham trying to make his way in a grown man’s fucking game.” 

“Well, he’s got your loyalty, that’s got to be saying something, right?”

A low chuckle sounded as a man in a familiar pin-stripped suit lazily sauntered over towards their table. 

Alfie tensed, unconsciously pulling Billie closer to him, hand coming around to rest on her hip. He cursed that he’d been too focused on the girl next to him to even think about the possibility of someone sneaking up on them.

“Silly girl.” The same cunning voice from earlier that afternoon stopped itself right next to Alfie’s side of the booth. His beady eyes rested on the lack of space between the Jewish man and the woman next to him. “No one will ever have this man’s loyalty,” he pointed to Alfie. “He’ll always find a way to stab them in the back.” 

“Mr. Sabini,” Alfie tugged at his hat with his free hand. “How’d you find your way into my pub?”

“The front door works, don’t it?” Sabini undid his suit jacket, taking a seat next to Alfie in the booth. “I suppose, my old friend, none of this territory stuff matters no more. We agreed upon peace earlier, didn’t we? Peace between the Italians,” Sabini gestured towards himself, “and the Jews of Camden Town,” he then gestured towards Alfie. 

Billie threw a confused look Alfie’s way, but the gangster pretended not to see it. 

“Yeah, we did, didn’t we,” Alfie nodded. “But all that, mate, was discussed earlier, which leads me to ask why you’re here now.” 

“Originally, Alfie, originally I came to talk about our conditions for Epsom. But while in the presence of a beautiful lady? No, no, no. I’d much rather talk about her.” 

Alfie’s fingers curled into Billie’s hip. She glanced over at him, noticing the twitch of his jaw. Placing a reassuring hand on his thigh, she let him know that she would not be intimidated by the man in front of him, at least not with him in between them. 

“Billie, you don’t have to answer anything he asks, luv.”

“Ah, a name, delightful.” Sabini smirked, shooing the waiter away before he approached again. “Billie-?” 

“Ingrid, Mr. Sabini. Billie Ingrid.”

“And where might you be from Miss. Ingrid?”

Billie wanted to look over towards Alfie again, tentatively asking if it was alright to tell the Italian any information about herself. But his eyes were focused ahead of him, teeth grinding against each other. 

“Well, I was originally from Hampshire. I grew up there until I was six, some years after my mom left,” Billie mused matter-of-fairly. “Then it was just dad and I. He moved us out to Australia for a while, and then we moved back here.” 

“Australia?” Alfie questioned, surprised. She hadn’t even known he’d been listening. 

“Your mother left,” Sabini seemed genuinely sorry for the information. 

“Yeah, uhm, I don’t really remember her so I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

“Thought you said she was Jewish,” Alfie interjected. 

“That’s what dad told me.” Billie was put off by the unconvinced look adorning Alfie’s face. “Why would he lie about something like that?” 

“S’pose he wouldn’t. Just odd.”

Billie didn’t take the time to question the oddity of the situation. To her, it was just general information. Her mother had left her and her father when she was only a toddler. Of what Billie could remember of her, she was always cold, never showing any adoration when it came to her daughter. As a child, Billie never really missed her, having grown close to her father who only displayed love and affection.

In later years, her father would describe her mother as having found fate later in life. She blamed herself for having married a non-religious man, and sought to repent within the Jewish religion. “It was never you,” he assured Billie, when she was just a young girl asking her father why her mother wasn’t coming back. “It’s me. It’s because of the things I do.” Billie, however, never knew her father to have committed a sin in his life. 

“And your father, what’d he do.” Billie couldn’t tell if Sabini was genuinely curious, or if he was trying to dig up as much information on her as possible. Although she didn’t like the man’s insistent interest in her life, she didn’t have anything to hide.

“Dad was a lawyer.” She sighed. “Small practice in town back in Hampshire. When we moved to Australia, he never ventured out far, we were always content to keep to ourselves. But after we moved back, he acquired more business in the city. Paid better I suppose.”

“Of course.” Sabini smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Billie waited for more questions to come, but they never did. Feeling like she had just been interrogated, she took another sip of her gin before excusing herself to the washroom. Untangling herself from Alfie, she could tell the clogs in his brain were turning. Although he hadn’t liked the way Sabini had prodded into her past, he wasn’t about to lie and say he wasn’t just as curious. 

“What’s that look for, mate.” Alfie called over to Sabini, concerned. 

“I once came across a man named Peter Ingrid.” The Italian spoke slow, controlled. “Small town lawyer, something suspicious in the way his eyes fidgeted. Ya know the drill, fucking hiding something. So I have my boys follow him, right. Turns out,” Sabini cleared his throat. “E was in with the fucking Blinders before the Blinders even thought about running their gypsy asses through my fucking territory.” 

“What’d he do for them.” Alfie pushed.

“I don’t remember the details,” Sabini mused. “Some legal bindings for one of the sister’s children. A daughter and a son, she had. Hidden away or adopted, I don’ fucking know. But, he was a family friend, that I found out. Had a wife too, a flighty woman she was. But I don’t remember it being said that they ever had a daughter. It’s just strange. Very strange.”

Alfie felt something cold creep up his back, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. “How many years ago was this?”

Sabini looked grave. “Pro’ly twenty or so odd years.” 

“So, wha’ you think that’s Billie’s father?”

“I know it’s her father, Alfie. Small world, small world indeed.” 

Acting as if he was brushing it off, Alfie tapped both hands against the table top. “Right, well, she’s not part of this, mate. Alright, she’s separate.” 

“Relax, Solomons. We made a deal, I don’t touch your girls and you don’t touch mine. But be careful how you hold her, boy. Someone’s going to come along and they’re going to smell the weakness that reeks off of you like vanilla or whatever the fuck she’s wearing, and they’re going to twist that weakness to their use. Nothing, Alfie, nothing breaks a man like a woman.”

With that, Sabini sniffed, buttoning up his shirt jacket as he stood. “You’ll be receiving a telegram from me, do keep an eye out for it.” 

Alfie slugged back the rest of his drink, watching Sabini disappear through the crowd. He knew what the peace treaty with the Italians meant for the Blinders, and he was almost sorry he had to betray them in the way that he did. But business was business, and he’d always do what was in his best interest.

Rubbing a hand across his beard, he couldn’t seem to shake the coldness that had creeped up into him when Sabini had described his encounter with who could possibly be Billie’s father. He tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter, that her father had already passed and she had no knowledge of the Blinders, and therefore no connection to them. But she had heard the name before, and now he knew why. 

Besides, she had stated firmly that she wanted to help him with the bakery, and not just with the small amounts of bread they baked to keep their cover. No, she wanted in with the real bread, and he was afraid he didn’t have the strength to deny her much.

His eyes lit up as Billie made her way back to the table. Sabini was right, she was an undeniably beautiful woman. Not that he had noticed before, it was just different seeing her outside of his office. Here she looked free, and happy. Like she was actually content to be in his presence. 

“Where’d he get off to?” She asked, sliding back into the booth besides Alfie, this time a little more space left between them now that the Italian was gone. 

“He’s gone, luv.” Alfie reached into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a couple of bills for the waiter, even though what he really wanted to give him was a cane to the teeth. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright. Him and I, we have a deal. None of them will touch you.” 

Billie nodded, though she was sure that was something Alfie couldn’t count on in the way his hands twitched in and out of fists, as if he was already expecting a fight. 

Pushing himself out of the booth, he grabbed Billie’s jacket, sighing. “C’mon, ruined the fucking mood, didn’t he? Early morning tomorrow, anyway. Gotta show you the warehouse ‘n all that.” 

She followed him out, after having been helped back into her jacket. Switching positions, so she was to the front again, he placed his hand on the small of her back, escorting her. 

__

Alfie sighed when he saw how far down his car was parked from the establishment. He should have brought his cane with the way the frigid air was affecting his hip, but he didn’t want to look anymore of the older man that he already felt he was. At least not around Billie. 

“Most businesses, right, they reserve a spot for the owner, yeah.” Alfie stated. “But no, in me own damn pub I have to walk all the way down the opposite end of the fucking street. That make any sense to you, luv?”

Arm and arm with Alfie again, she couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped her mouth, causing Alfie to beam down at her. “We call that privilege, Mr. Solomons -whoa.” 

A hand shot out gripping the sleeve of Billie’s coat, causing her to whip around in the opposite direction. 

“What the fuck, mate.” Alfie steadied Billie, pulling her into his chest. The man before him was barely illuminated by street lights. A red waste-coat and top hat, the only accents of clothing that highlighted against all black. Alfie could see kohl lining the outsides of his eyes-lids, half-hooded as if almost asleep. 

Leaning against a barrel, he chuckled, watching Billie intensely. Something rattled in his hands and he passed the objects back and forth. 

“A fortune for a pretty lady?” The man asked. 

Billie shook her head, watching the man halt before reaching into his waste-coat pocket. 

“How about this,” he said instead, revealing two six-sided dice being rolled against his thumb. “I’m gonna roll the dice, Miss, and change your life.” 

“Alright.” Alfie’s large hand pulled around Billie’s wrist, yanking her back behind him. Billie could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves, ready to pounce on the man who toyed with her. 

“Alfie, it’s okay.” She grabbed his arm, knowing better than to attempt and pull him back. “He’s just a street performer or something. He’s just toying with us.” She squeezed his arm comfortingly, assuring him that she was fine, though if she was being completely honest, she didn’t know this man's intention at all. 

Alfie stood rigid, body covering Billie’s from the man's leering eyes. He relaxed slightly as she cooed his name, calling him back to her. 

Turning his back on the man still laughing amusingly, he kept his eyes focused on Billie’s, both depths filled with understanding and affection. He’d do anything for her. He’d kill a man for making her uncomfortable. For even looking at her for too long, and she knew that power was something she couldn’t control. Not really. 

Grabbing his arm, she began to coax him forward, hoping he’d just leave the situation behind. 

“You should have kept her hidden, Mr. Solomons.” Billie felt Alfie’s arm tense under her grip. “They’ll be coming for her. All of them.” 

Looking as if he wanted to turn back, Alfie clenched his jaw tight, restraint only present so that Billie didn’t witness him at his worst. 

Billie only managed to finally pull Alfie away with another stern call of his name. She tugged at him, only releasing the pressure she had on his forearm when he complied with her pleading eyes, holding Billie close as they made their way back to his car.

They didn’t speak until they got back to the car. Billie wrapped tight around Alfie’s arm, hoping to ground him. Sure she was a little frightened of the man at first, yanking her back like that. But she didn’t completely understand Alfie’s anger. His protectiveness was welcome, but there was something like fire dancing in his eyes in the way he looked back there. Like realization. 

“What was that?” She questioned quietly. 

“Gypsies.” he muttered.”

“I thought you said they were in Birmingham?”

“They’re supposed to be.”


	4. Rum Tasting Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Seriously, the semester is almost over so I'll be able to get in a few weeks of writing before I have to space out my chapters again. This chapter in particular doesn't have much plot, but I'm still trying to progress Alfie and Billie's relationship before we get into anything big. The next chapter, however, will be a big one for the set up some specific plot points.
> 
> As always, I read all of your comments, I appreciate every single one of them, I respond mentally, but then I fall asleep before I actually type anything out. But really, they keep me going, and they sure as hell make me smile. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Alfie felt like a right asshole the morning after his night out with Billie. He surprisingly arrived at work earlier than she did, having been unable to sleep the night before, and finding no comfort lying in bed alone while there was work to be done. 

As it was he couldn’t concentrate. It was just yesterday that Billie had found out about his hidden professions, and had stated her desire to be a part of the business. If that wasn't enough, he then had to deal with the realization that her father was very closely fucking acquainted with the Peaky Blinders.

He hoped to no end that they had no idea of her existence. He wasn’t sure what they would do with that knowledge if they ever found out, but after the stunt he was about to pull in favor of Sabini’s Epsom deal, he had some ideas. Most of them involved Tommy turning her against him, or using her as leverage. The thought of either had him grinding his teeth against each other, anticipating the worst.

Although, he figured he was doing a good enough job at pushing her away himself. After all, she had barely even acknowledged him with a curt nod of her head when she arrived that morning, understandably upset about how he acted at the end of the night. 

Alfie had been a perfect gentleman up until he had driven her back to her flat, jaw clenching and unclenching as his eyes were set firmly on the road ahead of him. 

Billie had tried to pry his thoughts from out of his head, but she had only succeeded in asking him questions about the man who grabbed her back there with little to no answers easing her curiosity. The most he gave her were grunts of acknowledgement when she made a comment regarding the situation, but he could hardly concentrate with Sabini’s slimy voice repeating knowledge about good ole’ Peter Ingrid over and over again, his voice perfectly clear in his head.

“Who’s coming for me?” She practically pleaded with him to answer, gripping his arm tightly. 

Stopping the car in front of her flat, he inhaled aggressively. “Billie, I don’t know what the fuck that gypsy was talking about back there, alright?” Lie. “But he shouldn’t have put his fucking hands anywhere near you. Fucking grabbing a woman like that.” He was pissed for a lot of reasons.

Taking Alfie’s frustration as if directed to her, Billie had only nodded her chin in understanding before swiftly opening the door to his car and stepping out. She had barely registered his car door slamming as well, while she made her way up the stairs. That is until he appeared just behind her. 

It looked as if Alfie wanted to say something. To apologize or clarify that his anger wasn’t directed at her, but he was far too distracted with the situation to do anything but watch her unlock the door, and whisper an almost inaudible goodbye before stepping in, lightly slamming the door in his regretful face. 

Hands stuffed in his pockets, Alfie had debated knocking on the door. He could just as easily explain to her all that Sabini had said to him while she was using the washroom. But that would shine light on her father’s connections, which could go wrong for multiple reasons. 

The first being that it would shatter her image of her lawful father, as he spent most of his time working with Birmingham gangsters. Which in turn, would have her running off to the god forsaken Shelbys in search of answers. Once they got wind of her, and more than likely found out about her connection to Alfie, the result would only be fucking heart breaking. 

He wasn’t going to stand around and pretend his feelings for her weren’t growing every single time he looked at her, and he sure as hell wouldn't let her go without a fight. That is, if she felt the same way about him. But why even ignite a situation that may not come to pass if buried deep within all of the other secrets he harbored?

It wasn’t like he doubted her loyalty. Hell, she was a better worker than half of the men at the distillery and all she did was the fucking paperwork. She’d make a great asset, to that he had no doubt. It just got complicated now.

He might as well write her name across his forehead and invite all the other bosses into his warehouse to take shots at them. 

Turning on his heel, he stormed back to the car. It was best to keep her in the dark about things that would only hurt her. Until his feelings about the situation passed, he'd be sure to keep her away from the Shelbys for fear of a chance of inquiry being thrown her way. 

None of this mattered if they didn’t know she existed, he consoled himself. But he never was any good at lying to himself.  
__

As the day passed by slowly, Alfie decided that torture in its purest form was the dreaded silent treatment. For fuck’s sake, the woman must have the willpower of a God to ignore him the way she did.

Often, he found himself simply looking in her direction, brows creased in frustration as he inquired as to what she was doing. He found that he didn’t have the mind to focus on any of the work at hand, and gave a large pile to Ollie who sat uncomfortably in the corner, wondering how the hell his boss pissed off a woman who never got mad. 

It was like there were two Alfie Solomans' in the world today, except one was 5’3 and a woman. 

Actually, it was quite hilarious to watch Alfie pouting like a child. He cleared his throat so many times, Ollie thought the man would erupt into flames the longer Billie ignored his efforts to gain her attention. The only thing that stopped Ollie from laughing outright was the leveled stare that his boss fixed him with every time he couldn’t contain a snort. It was so obvious that even Bille couldn’t help but send a small smirk Ollie’s way. Well, at least she wasn’t made at him as well. 

Flipping through all of the documents that Ollie had finished, a small sealed envelope fell out of the stack onto his desk. Looking at it quickly, he called Alfie’s attention to it right away.

“Mhm, summat here for you, Alf.” Ollie made to stand up and hand it to his boss, but Alfie was out of his chair quicker than he expected, relieved at something to catch his attention. 

Both Ollie and Billie watched him open the envelope, and Alfie nearly gave into the urge to tell em’ to fuck off and mind their own business. Yeah, now they wanted something to do with him. Fucking doghouse, he shook his head. 

Billie especially couldn’t contain her curiosity as she watched Alfie scan the piece of paper he took out from the envelope.

She watched as he scratched his beard with one hand, pacing in little circles as he read it over. Once. Twice. Three times. 

“What is it?” She asked anxiously. 

Looking over at her surprised, his eyes were wide with amusement. 

The man showed no signs of being apologetic for the night before, and yet Billie still gave into him. She was a weak, weak, stupid woman, she repeated over and over again in her head. 

“It’s nothing that concerns you, luv.” He stuffed the piece of paper into the breast pocket of his usual work shirt, before sitting back down at his desk.

Getting up from her own desk, she went to stand on the opposite side of his, hands braced on the wood. “It didn’t look like nothing.”

He only hummed in response, causing her to grow even more agitated. Coming round his desk, she stopped just in front of his slightly angled chair. 

“Come on, Alfie, don’t be a git.”

Alfie laughed outright. “Oh, hear that Ollie? Now I’m a git.” 

Ollie looked uncomfortable. Fumbling around at his desk, he pretended to be looking for something before promptly getting up and leaving. 

Both Billie and Alfie hardly registered him leaving, the former now feeling substantially annoyed. Reaching for the piece of paper just sticking out of Alfie’s breast pocket, she didn’t anticipate the man having such a fast reaction. He slid his chair back against the cabinets behind him, causing Billie to fall forward. 

Alfie caught her before she fell and hit her face off of one of his knees, promptly pulling her down into his lap, turning her in a way so that her back was pressed against his chest. 

“I thought you were mad at me or somethin’?” He teased, pulling her back a little closer to his chest.

“Just let me see the letter and I won’t be mad anymore. All will be forgiven,” She coaxed.

“Good god woman, I told you it’s nothing. Why can’t you just let it be?”

“Because it has my name on it.” She looked up into his blue eyes, and wondered how she had even tried to stay mad at him. She knew she had been a tad unreasonable last night, but she had been in shock by the man's actions outside of Alfie’s pub, and she didn’t enjoy the insecure feeling that came over her, like she was vulnerable to an attack at any time. 

“What? No it doesn’t!” Alfie sputtered, bringing her attention back to the letter.

Alfie stretched his head -still holding Billie against him -in search of the envelope. But it was too late before he realized she had delicately fingered the paper out of his pocket. 

He looked down at her incredulously. She really had some big fucking balls taking something directly out of his pocket. 

“You left Ollie’s packet on my desk this morning,” she simply stated, answering his unasked question of how she knew her name had been on the envelope.

Opening the letter, she began to read slowly.

To my good friend, Alfie Solomans,

And in the hope that you bring your enchanting Miss Ingrid:

You are formally invited to Eden Club tonight, as taking part in the opening festivities of the annual Epsom races.

P.S. Prepare for business

D. Sabini.

“Are we going?” Billie asked tentatively. 

“Bil,” Alfie looked over her shoulder at the letter. “I’m going, right. But you, luv, are not going anywhere near that fucking place. You’ve no idea the people who’ll be crawling around the bloody place.” The Shelbys for one. 

“Alfie, that’s not fair. My name’s on the invitation too.”

“Sweet, it’s not just an invitation right, it’s a business transaction.” He sighed. He’d be the most fucking envied man there with Billie on his arm.

Twisting around to look at Alfie, Billie couldn’t help but give a little pout at the thought of getting all dressed up with Alfie for the night. It might only be for business, but she’d still enjoy her time spent with him. She sure as all hell was enjoying her time spent on his lap, even if it was because he was too lazy to shoo her off of him, or so she thought. 

“Alright, well if I’m going to be part of this business. The real business,” she pointed to a stack of papers displaying runners and bottle counts. “You have to let me see the ugly parts. I’m not going to run away, I promise.” She gripped his hand for good measure. 

“You ran away last night, didn’t ya?”

Looking down, and then back up at Alfie, Billie felt stupid for acting the way she had the night before. She let fear take over, and she doubted Alfie wanted someone working for him that was so easily frightened. “I’m sorry about that,” she sighed. “But that was different, and you know it. You know I still don’t completely understand what happened last night, and I know you do. I saw it in your eyes. You looked-” Billie got real quiet.

“I looked what? Go on.”

“Devastated, Alfie. You looked devastated.” 

After running a hand through his disheveled hair, Alfie scooched Billie off of him, setting her in between his legs and the desk. 

“Luv,” he looked up at her, as she turned to look down at him, still seated. “I don’t really understand what happened last night either, yeah? Right, it was just some bloke trying to get into my head. But he knew who you were, and what you mean to me. In my world, yeah, that’s not information I want plastered all over London. Especially not by some fucking gypsy.”

“You think he has to do with the Blinders? What would Thomas Shelby want with me?” Billie decided not to comment on what she meant to Alfie. 

Alfie shook his head. “Nothing, luv. Fuck, I don’t know,” Alfie knew. “Can you just trust me and leave it be? At least until I find out more.” Although he did plan on finding out more, he didn’t necessarily want to let her in on any of his findings. He found that this was going to be increasingly difficult, especially with her insistence on attending the event with him tonight. He just had to keep her away from the Shelby brother who planned on showing his face.

“Can you trust me and not go cold on me like you did last night? You acted like it was my fault.”

“No, luv, nothing was even close to being your fault, alright. Don’t think that for a second.” Sniffing, he sat back lazily in his chair, eyes never leaving Billie once. “I am sorry though, right. I do trust you.”

“Then I trust you too,” Billie smiled. 

“You want that tour of the warehouse now?”

“Quickly. I need to pick out a dress for tonight.”

“Fucking hell. Yeah, alright. But Ollie’s coming. Need back up tonight.” 

___

“The bakery,” Alfie gestured towards the open warehouse, arms wide in appreciation of his own business. “Is actually the best front for a distillery, yeah. We keep shipments of sugar and molasses on the books, and no one needs to know what the fuck is being made with them.”

Walking through the rows of labeled barrels, Billie took in every word Alfie was saying with eager ears. “And the whole distilling process is done here?” She looked over her shoulder at him. 

He was pretending to inspect the rum barrels, making sure they were labeled with the proper dates, but he was really sneaking glances at her. He watched as her eyes narrowed in curiosity as she watched the boys ferment the rum, and distill it. 

Alfie hummed in response. “We make the rum, we store the rum, and we ship the rum.”

Gesturing for Billie to follow him, Alfie led her over to a little table with rum samples on them. Billie knew that no customers ever came or went from the distillery, so the batch must be for the workers. 

“Try this.” Alfie held up a bottle of dark rum for Billie to try. 

Bringing the bottle up to her nose, Billie sniffed it before wincing back at the stench. She looked up to see Alfie watching her expectantly. Bringing it to her lips, she took a sip, tasting it on her tongue. 

“Well, what you think?”

“It’s strong.” Billie licked her lips, but her face was scrunched up in slight discomfort.

“It’s fucking rum, luv.” Alfie deadpanned. 

“What about this stuff?” Billie gestured towards another bottle filled with clear liquid.

“Ah, the white bread.” Alfie replaced the bottle in Billie’s hand with the one she had pointed at.  
She laughed softly at him calling the rum by its codename, by what everyone else besides the two of them referred to the liquor as. “Now that is for the bosses, that is.”

Billie carried on with the same procedure as she did the first bottle, bringing it up to her nose to test its smell, then taking a sip to gauge its taste. “I quite like this one actually,” she brought the bottle up to her lips to take another sip.

Alfie couldn’t help the small smile that erupted onto his face as he watched her enjoying the rum. 

Plucking the bottle out of her hand, Alfie had another bottle in his own hand waiting for her to try. “Alright, I have one more for you, yeah? Then I’ll let you run home, and get all dolled up.”

“What’s this one?” Billie asked, reaching for the bottle.

“It’s spiced,” Alfie stated simply. Billie’s eyes lit up, knowing that this was the smell that had first wafted towards her when she had first met Alfie. Spices, rum, and hints of masculine cologne. 

Bringing the bottle to her lips, Billie didn’t get the chance to taste it as a young man’s body collided into hers, causing her to fall forward, the liquor spilling all over the front of her shirt.

Alfie reached over to help Billie up, settling her feet firmly on the ground, before he grasped her by the forearms moving her out of the way of his rage.

Billie thought he was storming towards the boy who had collided with her, but he walked right past the stammering boy towards a man who looked to be slightly younger than Alfie, and pushed him back against a secured barrel of rum.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, mate?”

Alfie almost didn’t give the man time to answer as his fist raised slightly, wanting to meet its target of the man’s face. But Billie was right behind him, hand squeezing his shoulder.

“It was just an accident, Alfie, let it be.”

“Honest, sir. It was only an accident. I mean Sam said he had a little crush on the girl,” the man pointed towards the boy who had collided with Billie, his face red with embarrassment. He saw that a crowd had formed to watch the incident. When his eyes skimmed over Billie’s apologetic eyes, and Alfie’s raging orbs, he looked down in shame.

“And I thought, hey, the boy needs a little push, yeah? I said, it won’ mean nothing to the boss, yeah. I didn’t expect him to actually fall into her. Although, he did seem to get a good cop if you know what I mean.”

Billie couldn’t fault Alfie for the way his fist collided with the man’s face, or the way he picked him back up for another blow. Once the man lay unconscious at Alfie’s feet, he turned towards the onlooking crowd of workers. 

“Let’s get one fucking thing straight, lads.” Alfie bellowed over the low murmurs of the men. “I very much fucking care about anything that has to do with Miss Ingrid,” he gestured towards her with his hands, but winced back a little when he saw her red blouse was covered in rum. 

He’d deal with that later, for now he had a point to make. 

“She’s going to be working much more closely with you men, right. So if any of you pull any shit with her. You fucking touch her, you fucking talk to her in the way you fuckers usually talk around women, you even fucking look at her in the wrong way and I’m going to make sure you’re shipped out of this fucking place in one of these barrels here and thrown into the fucking Thames. Is that fucking understood?”

The crowd of men nodded, not bothering to say a word. They knew their answer wasn’t necessary. 

“Good. Now fuck off, yeah?”

Alfie turned towards Billie, guiding her back towards the stairway by placing his hand on the small of her back. As he walked past the boy who had collided with Billie, he stopped real quick to whisper something in his ear.

The boy’s eyes went wide as he stammered. “I’m sorry, Mr. Solomons. I didn’t know.” 

Alfie smirked at Billie’s curious eyes.

“What did you say to him?” Billie asked as they made their way back up the stairs.

“Nothing. Nothing.” Alfie waved off, but he still had a ghost of a smirk playing on his face.

___

Walking through the doors of Alfie’s office, Billie examined herself in one of the glass windows. Sighing, she reached for her coat, “I guess I best get home, I still have some time to get ready, don’t I?”

Alfie nodded, but stopped her before she could make a step towards the door. “You can’t go home like that, luv. One strong gust of wind, and you’ll be freezing the whole way.”

Before Billie could respond, Alfie was unbuttoning his shirt. She watched his fluid movements, the way his hands worked hastily to get the buttons undone. His hands were large, but his movements were nimble. Once he finally pulled the shirt from off of his shoulders, she saw the way his muscles flexed over his chest. There was a hint of hair drawing down his chest towards his stomach, forming a slight happy trail. Although he wasn’t lean like a younger man, he was filled out rather nicely, his form latent with muscle, the set of his shoulders strong. 

She caught sight of a few tattoos scattered across his upper arm, and a few on his chest before she realized he was standing there watching her, his hand extended out, offering her the shirt. 

She could barely mumble a thank you without catching the spark in his amused eyes.

Heading over to the corner of the room, she gestured for him to turn around so she could remove her own blouse and replace it with his shirt.

He obliged, though it was not without hesitation. He couldn’t help the way he peaked over his shoulders, watching her back move in motion with her arms to unbutton her own blouse and lift it over her head. He saw the black fabric of her bra, and the smooth skin of her back, dipping down underneath her skirt, curvy and lean. He wanted to rush over to her right then and there, turn her around, and lay one right on her. But he didn’t want her to think he was taking advantage of her in her state of undress, so he just turned back around once she firmly buttoned his shirt over her body, and tucked in the loose ends, it puffing out slightly due to the size of it being too big on her. 

Turning around, she pretended not to catch the rapid turn of his head. “You can turn around now. I’m all set.”

Alfie almost couldn’t swallow, his mouth opening and closing, standing there, seeing her in his shirt. This is it, he thought, this is it for me. She’s gone and turned me into a right sap.

Billie’s eyes trailed over his naked torso some more before she looked up. “Do you have a spare shirt lying around somewhere? You can’t go home like that either, you know.”

“I’ll figure something out,” he managed to ground out.

Nodding, she walked across the room to stand in front of him. Gripping his bare arm, she only had to slightly reach to plant a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for today. The rum tasting, the tour, the shirt. Thank you.” 

Looking down at her, he felt that he had to get as far away from her as possible before she burnt him with the warmth of her body so close to his. He wondered if she was maybe feeling the same way that he was by the color blazing in her cheeks, and in her eyes.

"Right, of course.” He stepped back. “Now, go on home, alright? I’ll pick you up at eight.” His tone was sober, he gulped at a stark realization. 

Billie nodded again before making her way towards the door. Alfie was glad she hadn’t stopped to look back, because he could do little but stumble back into his desk, his mind full of thoughts of how fucked he was.


	5. Eden Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloo, everyone!
> 
> I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Unfortunately, between Christmas, the new year, school, and work, I didn't have as much time as I would have liked to finish this chapter on time.
> 
> But it's here now! I'm not sure if I'm going to edit this one in the future. Some parts seem very rushed to me, but I couldn't waste anymore time dwelling on it, as I really wanted to get it out.
> 
> As always, I appreciate your comments, and I read every single one of them, and am overwhelmed by the feedback, as well as the level of interest people have in my story.
> 
> In case anyone listens to music while they read, I wrote the dance scene to Stay by Rihanna, so I'd recommend that while you read.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, please enjoy!

As a child, Billie never really had any use for expensive dresses or fine materials, at least not like the ones she was wearing tonight. The little town that she and her father lived in when she was younger rarely held any extravagant events. The ones that her father was invited to were no place for a little girl. 

But as she got older, she found herself invited out to a handful of events. While she liked both the atmosphere and the attire of the dances - both fancy and enticing - she found the company considerably lacking.

Now, however, as she stood in front of her bedroom mirror, her hands smoothing over the blood orange fabric of her dress, her fingers hitching slightly against the pull of the sequins and the bedazzled jewels embedded in the seams, she realized that she was far more excited by the man she was accompanying tonight than the event itself, held at Eden Club.

In fact, Billie found it far from regrettable that she couldn’t find a single reason to truly dislike Alfie Solomans.

Sure, there was the obvious issue of safety, him being a gangster and all, with pages worth of enemies beating down his bakery doors. And sure, she was just a country girl who had very little wits about her when it came to protecting herself. But if there ever was a chance of being with him, she’d jump on it despite the setbacks. 

That is, if he wanted to be with her as well.

That man could very easily have his choice of any woman that he wanted, and Billie would be bold to assume that she was the one to catch his dark eyes.

Yet, she felt that there might be more than a chance that she was correct in her assumptions about Alfie’s feelings for her. After all, when she was around him she felt like she was on fire. His eyes held so much depth in them when they looked at her, that she thought she might actually be staring into the unknown ripples of the ocean. 

The way that he touched her in passing; protected her that night out at his pub; whispered in her ear so only she could hear his thoughts on the client sitting in front of them; and watched her like she would disappear if he looked away for just a moment were all enough to cause her to drown.

There were worse ways to go, she supposed.

The sound of a car door drew Billie’s attention away from the mirror towards her open window. Looking out, she saw Alfie approaching her front steps, his cane held in hand like a scepter. He most certainly looked like a King from that angle. 

Wanting to waste no time, she grabbed her small purse from where she had discarded it on her bed before making her way over to the front door. Although she practically flung it open in excitement, Billie composed herself as she stepped out into the cool night air.

Alfie’s mouth dropped open the moment Billie stepped through the threshold of her front door. His hands clasped around his cane so hard that his knuckles turned white, the object hitting the bottom step with a loud thump.

Billie could hardly register the sound of Alfie’s breath leaving his lips as they opened and closed against each other softly, the stillness of the cool air stark as a small gasp left her own mouth.

Her eyes were all but hungry as she took in Alfie’s appearance. He stood in front of her, his usual imposing self, in a black, tailored suit, tight against his large figure. The detailing of the suit had Billie in awe. 

Although subtle, the intricate threading resembled that of a coiled snake skin, the design faded delicately into the black material. Fewer rings adorned the man’s fingers, as his hand came up to scratch nervously at his recently trimmed beard.

Feeling the urge to reach towards him and run her fingers over the visible scar on Alfie’s cheek, Billie restrained herself, simply choosing to stand there as her words cut into the silent air around them.

“Well you look -.”

“Fucking stunning,” Alfie finished, blinking as he took in the fiery color of Billie’s dress. Her sequins ricocheted off of the bright color, lighting her up like a flame in his eyes.

He too was afraid to approach, feeling as if he’d be unable to help the way he wanted to reach for her, bring her in close. Instead, he took a large step back, his fingers clenching and unclenching around his cane with nervous energy.

She was killing him. Surely, she was trying to with the way her dress clung to her body, the neck slipping down into a slight v-shape, revealing her collar bone and the contrast of her skin against the color of the fabric.

Looking down, Billie felt her cheeks redden under Alfie’s intense gaze. She saw him shuffle, favoring his good leg as he offered her a hand. 

“Ready?” He cleared his throat.

Billie gave a little nod, walking down the remaining steps towards him, her hand fitting comfortably in his outstretched one. 

Escorting her towards the car, Alfie stopped only when Billie touched his arm lightly.

“I almost forgot,” she reached up, untying a small piece of lace, the same color of her dress, from her hair. She let her curls flow down towards her shoulders as she tucked the lace into the breast pocket of Alfie’s suit jacket like a handkerchief. “Just in case we get separated,” Billie whispered. “I might be able to find you.”

Alfie nodded, gulping as he realized there was very little space between the two of them. He wasn’t thinking so much about her finding him in the midst of the crowd, as he had no intention of leaving her without himself or Ollie. But he did stand a little taller at the thought of the fabric symbolizing that they were together, that he was hers, and she was his, at least for the night.

___

Ollie sought out Alfie and Billie the moment that they made their way towards the Eden Club’s front doors, Alfie leaning slightly closer to Billie as he left his cane in the car.

Alfie had urged Ollie to bring a date, to keep up appearances at the very least, but Ollie had argued that there was no way he would be capable of handling both business and pleasure at the same time. Alfie definitely did not like the way Ollie’s eyes glanced at him knowingly as he said it. 

“I was beginning to think you were sending me in alone,” Ollie stuffed his hands in his pockets, a small smirk on his face.

Billie gripped Alfie’s arm a little tighter as she remembered that they were here for a reason. A business transaction Alfie had said earlier in the day. Disguising her nervousness with laughter, she rolled her eyes teasingly as Alfie and Ollie bickered back and forth.

“Well, go on. Go in. We’ll be right behind you,” Alfie coaxed his second in command in through the doors before Billie and himself.

As Ollie made his way through the entrance, Alfie took the split second of solitude to whisper down towards his date. “You okay, luv?”

“Fine. Just fine,” she managed a small smile. “Just remembering what you said about dangerous men is all.”

“Aye,” Alfie squeezed Billie’s arm in comfort. “Not to worry. You have a dangerous man of your own, don’t you?”

Billie didn’t respond; surely he couldn’t mean that he was actually hers. 

Making her way through the doors with Alfie, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind, schooling her features. It was business, all of this was just business. 

Extravagance. That was the first thought that ran through Billie’s mind as she stepped into the Eden Club. The walls were high with shining chandeliers hanging from them, crystallizing the lights overhead the dance floor and the bar tops. There was a band playing on a stage at the far end of the pub, some couples taking a chance to sit down and listen to the sweet melodies, while others crowded the immense dance floors, swinging back moves and mingling with others.

Alfie made it a point to tell her that this was the busiest he had ever seen the place. Epsom races brought people together, he explained. Made people stand shoulder to shoulder with people they wouldn’t normally rub elbows with otherwise. 

Guiding Billie through the crowd, Alfie followed Ollie as he spotted two open stools at the bartop. Ollie took one while Alfie let Billie take the other. He stood behind her, leaning in, his hands coming to rest comfortably on her shoulders.

“You partaking tonight, Alf?” Ollie called over his shoulder as he signaled for the bartender to make his way over to the three of them. 

“Don’t believe so, no. Strictly business tonight, m’afraid.”

Billie tried her best to smile when Ollie offered her a chilled glass of whiskey, her face falling only when he looked away.

Again she was hit with the cold, stinging truth that tonight was only business. Alfie only wanted her there as his staff, and as a woman he could have on his arm for a night. She practically had to beg him to take her with him anyway, only giving in when he threw Ollie into the picture, so it wasn’t a real date. 

Sighing, she wanted to shrug off the warmth of his hands on her shoulders, but she let him keep them there, not wanting to cause any problems when there was work to be done.

“Anyone that we should be aware of?” Ollie asked as he brought his own glass of whiskey up to his lips. Like Alfie, he wasn’t much of a drinker, but he knew his nerves could take a sip of liquid courage at this very moment. 

Alfie shook his head, keen eyes looking through the crowd.

“No sign of Sabini either it would seem.”

“Spotted him when we came in,” Alfie offered, moving in closer to Billie as a group of men squeezed their way in through the crowd, craning their heads for unoccupied seats along the bar. “The back booth,” Alfie pointed indiscreetly. “Three girls with him, three men flanked. He’ll be around soon enough.”

Billie squinted her eyes to see where Alfie was pointing, but found that she couldn’t see through the mass of bodies on the dance floor. Taking his word for it, she sipped her drink.

“What’s the plan?” Ollie murmured, low enough that only the three of them could hear.

“Shelby’ll be by, I’m sure of it. I’ll get him alone, send him Sabini’s best wishes, and be done with it. Easy enough.”

“You’re betraying the Shelbys?” Billie whispered, surprise apparent on her face.

Alfie hummed in confirmation. “Better deal with the Italians.” 

“But the Shelbys, they’ll be here tonight?” Billie wasn’t understanding the plan, primarily because she had never been told the plan. Her eyebrows raised in annoyance. 

“Sabini invited them in good spirits,” Ollie leaned in, catching Billie’s confusion. “A cover,” he affirmed. 

“Right.” Billie sat back in her stool, pressing back against Alfie as she craned her neck to look up at him. “Do you really think it’s in your best interest to make an enemy out of Thomas Shelby? After all you’ve told me about him, he doesn’t seem like the type you want to be on the wrong side of.”

“What are you going to do to him, anyway?” Billie added as an afterthought.

Alfie sighed, his annoyance with Billie’s curiosity about Thomas Shelby apparent, almost simmering over into jealousy.

“I’m just going to rough ‘im up a bit. And it’s Arthur not Tommy.”

“Arthur?”

“Tommy’s brother. Fucking animal that one is. Don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“Might be too late for that,” Ollie leaned in to whisper as he saw a group of Peaky boys approach, Arthur Shelby leading the pack. 

“Fuck me,” Alfie sighed before turning around and taking a step slightly in front of Billie’s seat. Ollie stood as well, his arms crossed in what Billie had come to know as his signature ‘tough guy’ stance.

Arthur’s arms were spread wide as he came to stand in front of the Jewish gangsters. “Shalom, boys! Shalom!” His voice rasped over the crowd.

Billie caught sight of a little smirk making its way up onto Ollie’s face as Arthur greeted the men in a traditionally Jewish way. Billie couldn’t help the small smile that flickered on her own face, if only to signify that she could tell that the Shelby brother was genuine in his address. But as soon as the smile graced her face it was gone as she remembered Alfie’s purpose for being here tonight.

“Shalom, Arthur.” Alfie answered the man with equal enthusiasm, his calculated and gruff demeanor replaced with practiced charisma. “This here is my man, Ollie. I’m sure Mr. Kitchen has told you all about him, no doubt.” He nodded over Arthur's shoulder towards the tall, blonde man standing rigid, his face full of mistrust. 

“Aye, Mr. Solomons. He mentioned the lot of you quite a few times. Including your beautiful secretary.” Arthur nudged Billy Kitchen with his elbow, causing Alfie to narrow his eyes at the blonde man. “Is that her there?” The Shelby brother motioned behind Alfie towards Billie, who felt small sitting behind the two men. “Fancied she’d be blonde though.”

No one laughed at Arthur’s joke. Well, no one except for Billie who saw it for what it was, and couldn’t help the small burst of laughter that left her lips, easing the tension in front of her. Hopping off of the bar stool, she squeezed between Alfie and Ollie, not wanting to seem  
impolite when meeting a new face. 

“Right.” Alfie sniffed, his eyes still narrowed. The last thing he wanted was for the Peaky Blinders’ attention to be directed towards Billie, but seeing as that was already done, he made space between himself and Ollie for her to stand comfortably. “Billie,” he cleared his throat. “This here is Arthur Shelby. Arthur, this is Miss Ingrid, who is indeed my secretary.” The emphasis on ‘my.’

“Sorry to disappoint,” Billie pointed to her dark colored hair before extending her hand out towards the Birmingham gangster. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Arthur chuckled at Billie’s playfulness, pushing aside a quick after thought of why a woman like her would willingly work for Alfie Solomans. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Ingrid. I assure you.” Arthur caught Billie’s hand in his, bringing her knuckles up to his lips. His eyes, however, looked towards Alfie who looked ready to rip the Blinder’s lips clean off his face.

Realizing it was Arthur’s intention to get a reaction out of him, Alfie could hardly contain the frustration he felt running through his body. 

Billie could feel Alfie’s gaze intensifying as he watched the scene in front of them unfold. When Arthur finally let her hand go, and she dropped it back to her side, she felt Alfie’s own hand engulf hers, his thumb unconsciously rubbing Arthur’s touch away.

“This is just lovely, innit.” Alfie’s voice bit into the air. He expected Arthur to rile him up, but he didn’t expect Billie to be the tool he used. He found that he could hardly hide his distaste for the Shelby brother as he spoke.

He could feel Billie’s hand holding on to his tightly, her thumb now making soothing circles over the back of his hand. She could see right through him. She knew every word was dripped in sarcasm, that his demeanor could only get worse the more Arthur talked to him, that they were no longer pretending to be friends, exchanging niceties, but gangsters picking and probing at one another until someone snapped.

Arthur seemed to sober up when Alfie did, his own eyes now narrowed towards the other man. “‘S a wonder you were invited. Tommy told me you wasn’t on good terms with the Italians.”

Alfie let out a low chuckle, gruff and threatening. “Could say the same for you, mate. And yet, here we stand.”

Ollie seemed to stand up a little straighter as Arthur spoke quietly. “It’s a good thing Tommy trusts you.”

This time, Alfie let out a real chuckle. “It is a good thing, innit.” Turning, his head bent down to look at Billie, he couldn’t help but inhale a deep breath. She looked too good to be standing there, listening to two men bicker like an old married couple. Looking back up at Arthur, a small, genuine smile played on the tips of his lips. “As nice as it was talking to you, mate, ‘m afraid business will have to wait. I fancy a dance with my secretary. So, if you’ll excuse us.”

Billie allowed Alfie to lead her away from the group of Blinders towards the dance floor. He asked very quietly in the crowd if she actually wanted to dance with him, to which she could only reply with a small sense of hesitancy and a smile. 

“I thought you were supposed to get him alone,” Billie whispered as Alfie drew her into him, his hand still keeping hold of hers while the other made its way to the small of her back. 

The song was slow, causing Alfie and her to sway along to it in the crowd. Their chests pressed tightly together, causing her to feel Alfie hum in agreement. “In due time, luv. Can’t very well dance with you once the coppers are upon us.”

“I didn’t think a man like you danced.” 

Alfie only pulled back an inch, enough to look down into her eyes. Surely she must be imagining the spark in his orbs, the feeling of intensity running like wildfire through her veins. 

“Suppose, right, most men like me don’t get the chance to dance with a woman like you.” 

Gripping his shoulder as they swayed, Billie’s lips parted, her eyes settling on his full ones, before darting back up to his eyes.

“I’d venture a guess that you could have any woman in this room, never mind a woman like me.”

Alfie tilted his face closer to hers as she talked, his nose brushing hers, his eyes fixated on the movement of her lips.

“Could have, yeah.” He whispered huskily. “Is different than wanting.” 

Their faces leaned towards each other the longer they swayed, lips inches apart, breath intertwining, hot and heavy. 

Billie's eyes drifted shut as she anticipated the press of his lips to hers, but they never came, the sounds of a throat clearing audible behind them. 

Opening her eyes, Billie could see the grim set of Alfie’s jaw as he looked over her shoulder. She too turned to look at the source, unsurprised when she saw Sabini standing there alone, his head tilted curiously to the side. 

“Go find Ollie,” Alfie whispered in her ear. 

Billie didn’t say a word, just looked between Alfie and Sabini before she went off in the direction they had left Ollie. 

Sabini approached Alfie, peering over his shoulder briefly as Billie walked by. 

“My God, This old boy has gone soft.” Sabini spoke wryly.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Alfie nodded back towards Sabini. “With the Shelbys out of London, then myself, the Italians would have their own free for all, wouldn’t they? Picnics everyday, walks in the park. A fucking fairytale.”

“You can’t hide this. Alfie.” Sabini shook his head, but left it at that. Looking around, Sabini stuffed his hands in his suit jacket. “This place is loaded with Peakys. I don’t like it. I want you to send them all to hell.”

Grumbling, Alfie didn’t like feeling like anyone’s guard dog, but tonight he sure did, doing all of the dirty work. “Once this is over; right, you keep your side of the deal. The Shelbys for Epsom.”

“My word is honorable, Solomons.”

Stepping closer to Sabini, Alfie squared his shoulders. “It better be, because if it’s not you’re going to be dealing with me for a long fucking time.”

“You stand here in my fucking club, in my fucking territory, and you threaten me. You challenge my fucking honor.” Sabini hissed. 

“Everything alright, boys?” Arthur Shelby’s voice cut through the conversation, causing Alfie to roll his eyes at the interruption. Looking over at Arthur, he noticed the wobbling of his legs, and the tilt in his posture as he held a glass of whiskey in his hands. A content smile worn on his face.

“Fucking peachy, mate,” Alfie smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Arthur,” he gripped the man’s shoulders. “Care for a drink?” 

Arthur looked hesitant, but more than happy to fill his drink back up. Turning away, he missed the loaded look shared between Alfie and Sabini.

___

“Well, it’s started.” Billie muttered as she approached Ollie who seemed to have been peering over the crowd in search for her 

A sympathetic look crossed his face as he heard her take a seat with a sigh. 

“He’ll be alright, Bil. He’s a big boy.”

Billie nodded, resting her head against her hand, elbow propped up on the bar top. “No, I know. It’s just that… it’s always going to be business, isn’t it?”

“What d’ya mean?” 

“With Alfie,” Bille motioned back towards the crowd that he was lost in. She now wished that she could see the bright lace hanging out of his breast pocket.

“Billie, it’s complicated with him-.” Ollie was cut off as a shoulder knocked into his. Steadying himself, Ollie looked up to see a man trying to get through the crowd, Sabini by his side as they cackled and laughed. 

“What the hell?” Ollie began to protest.

“Shh,” Billie waved her hand, signaling for him to be quiet.

“That fucking Jew,” Sabini spat, caught in the hustle of the crowd. He must not have known Billie was behind him, as he fumed next to his partner. “Questioning me in my own fucking club.”

Billie approached behind quietly as Sabini and his mate began to weave their way through the mingling groups of the crowd. Looking back towards Ollie once, she didn’t want to lose them, but Ollie was already following her, just a few steps behind as she kept up with Sabini towards the far end of the dance floor.

Hesitating, Billie only stopped when she saw the Italians enter through a small door in the corner of the club, that stated ‘employees only.’

Looking between the door, and the rest of the club that she knew Alfie was still lost in, Billie sucked in a breath before pushing her way through it.

Ollie groaned in protest as he watched Billie disappear through the door, following Sabini. But after a moment of debating, he decided to follow her into the fire.

___

“What was that about then?” Arthur accepted another glass of whiskey from Alfie. They sat in a quiet back room of the club, both men flanked by their own perspective gangs. Though Alfie knew there were more Blinders out in the club somewhere, he hoped they were staying away from Billie.

Alfie didn’t look in Arthur’s direction as he answered the man’s question, his eyes cast ahead of him in deep contemplation. “A man like Sabini thinks he knows everyone’s weakness, doesn’t he? And yet, a man like Sabini thinks that he has no weakness of his own.”

The room was silent as Alfie spoke, though the heavy stares from the Peaky’s side of the room brought the tension up in volume. He could feel Billy Kitchen’s eyes on him like a knife trying to penetrate soft skin. Before today he may have thought the man’s dislike of him came from the treatment he got at the bakery, but after Arthur divulged that he talked about his secretary, he felt the hatred may be a little more personal.

Alfie fought the urge to look up in the Birmingham man’s direction. Instead, he listened carefully as Arthur chuckled, leaning back in his chair comfortably. At ease. “I believe we call that a hypocrite, Mr. Solomons.”

A small smile began to form on Alfie’s lips as he turned towards Arthur. “What do you suppose is Tommy’s weakness?”

And just like that Arthur’s shoulders stiffened. Both he and Billy say up a little straighter as the rest of the Blinders reach into their waistcoats, fiddling with whatever blade they had managed to sneak into the club. It wasn’t Arthur’s friends he was afraid of, he knew his men could kill them before they even moved from their rigid stances. But Arthur, no Arthur was unpredictable. 

As the man’s knuckles turned white around his glass, Alfie looked on in amusement. Gone was the chuckling gentleman. A chaotic force, an animal in his place.

“That is a bold question to ask, isn’t it? Especially when you lead that girl around like she’s a trophy. Does she know how much power she has over you?” Arthur ignored the way the Jewish man sucked in breath through his nose, shaking his head in disappointment. “You an’ Tom are the fucking same.”

“No, see we really aren’t no.” Alfie stood up, coming around the long table to stand on Arthur’s side. He leaned forward to rest his hands on the back of Billy’s chair, but looked at Arthur as he spoke. “Billie, right, is just me fucking secretary. I don’t pretend to hide anything because there is nothing to hide. But your brother, mate.” Alfie breathed dramatically. “He’s like a fucking open book, isn’t he? I mean, I take out even one of the Shelbys, right, and I’m a dead man. That’s that.” Tapping his knuckles against the table in front of him, Alfie solidified his point.

The silence in the room was deafening. Both Alfie’s men and Arthur’s men stood in anticipation of the worst.

“Course I’m not that stupid,” Alfie laughed after a moment, giving Arthur a little nudge to put him at ease.

Arthur laughed in return, his eyebrows raised playfully as he brought his glass up to his lips.

Alfie then took the opportunity to elbow Billy Kitchen in the head, knocking him out of his seat, before drawing a small knife from out of his suit jacket pocket, and plunging it into Arthur’s shoulder.

Just as Alfie had suspected, the Peaky boys were too slow in drawing their weapons as Alfie’s own men brought out their guns, pointing them at the men’s heads and pulling the trigger with no remorse. Two of Alfie’s men made their way around the table to restrain a still conscious Billy Kitchen as their boss lifted Arthur from his seat, the knife still lodged into his shoulder.

Placing Arthur against a support beam, Alfie leaned in very close, his lips against the Blinders’ ear. “Suppose I might be a little stupid.” He chuckled humorlessly, his head titled as he leaned in further. “Darby Sabini would like me to send the Shelby family his best wishes.” With that, he pulled the knife from out of Arthur’s shoulder harshly, before colliding his fist with Arthur’s nose. If Arthur felt any pain, he didn’t show it as his world went black. 

___

“Billie could you please stop for a second,” Ollie grabbed hold of Billie’s arm as she watched Sabini enter a small office. The Italians had walked past a kitchen, an open storage unit, and many closed doors, never once looking back to see the two pursuers on their heels. 

Staggering back against the wall, she glared at Ollie before peaking into the room. Sabini was sat on one side of the desk as the other Italian was sat in the client’s chair, concerns about Epsom forming on his tongue.

Rolling her eyes, Billie turned towards Ollie who was looking at her expectantly.

“You can’t just go after a man like that,” Ollie whispered, harshly. “We’re going to get caught!”

“Were not going to get caught, now be quiet and listen. Alfie’s supposed to have a deal with that man, yet he’s talking behind his back. Don’t you want to know why?”

Ollie’s whole body gave into the sigh that left his chest. They were the fucking same these two. Both fucking insane. He pressed his ear close to the wall next to the open door, slowly deciding that he needed a new job.

“It ought to be done by now?” The other Italian spoke. Billie inched into the room slightly, her eyes catching him leaning back in his chair, his attention on his fingers rubbing against each other.

Sabini only smirked. “You know, Alfie Solomans. Likes to draw these things out. It’s artistry to that prick.”

“He believed the offer?” The other man mused.

“The Shelbys for Epsom.” Sabini drummed his fingers against his desk lightly as a small silence took over the room. A moment passed before he spoke again. “Fucking fool, actually believed I’d let him step foot near those races after he basically led those Gypsies straight into my city? There are fucking consequences.” Sabini all but spat.

Billie looked back towards Ollie who stood there shocked, his posture stiff. Wasting no time with hearing the rest of the conversation, Billie took off past the tall man, back down the hall and through the door they came from.

Weaving her way through the dancing couples and huddled groups of whispers, she didn’t know where to start in her search for Alfie. There were more rooms in this place than she originally anticipated, all filled to the brim with drunkards and men leering over pretty women. She felt Ollie hot on her heels once again and silently thanked him for his sense of loyalty. 

Once they broke out from the midst of the dance floor, Billie knew where to look, as a fight between some of Alfie’s men and some of the Blinders was breaking out in front of a small door in a corner next to the stage. Fists were not the only thing being thrown as bottles of rum and champagne glasses were being broken over members of each gang’s head. 

Both Ollie and Billie tried to push their way through the fight without being hit, but Ollie was unable to dodge all of the chaos, successfully throwing people out of Billie’s path, but not his own. Most of Alfie’s boys were keen on helping them get to the door, but weren’t as successful as they were still trying to keep the Blinders out.

Eventually, some Eden Club guests got involved, trying to separate the two fighting groups. The interference only made the fight bigger, causing a distraction for Ollie and Billie to enter through the small wooden door. 

As Billie stepped through the threshold of the door, a strong arm drew her back, trying to drag her out of the room, but Alfie’s voice was lethal as he told the man not to fucking touch her.

“Billie, what the fuck are you doing in here?” Alfie asked as he pulled her away from the man’s arms, into his own. Looking over her shoulder, he saw Ollie standing there, out of breath.

Gripping his suit jacket, Billie could hardly get a word out. “Sabini… he’s betraying you. Said-.” She took a deep breath. “He said he wasn’t holding up his end of the bargain, we overheard him.” Billie pointed between herself and Ollie. 

Alfie looked up towards Ollie, looking back down at Billie only when his right-hand-man nodded in confirmation. 

Releasing Billie’s hands from his jacket, he gave her shoulder a squeeze before walking over to Ollie.

Ollie looked grave, his eyes hooded with defeat. “They’re tearing the place up out there. They’re looking for Arthur.”

Alfie waved it off, knowing that bigger problems were on their way. “The coppers’ll be here soon. They’ll deal with them.”

But Ollie wasn’t listening, his eyes lifted towards something in front of him. Alfie followed his gaze, craning his head over his shoulder. His heart barely beat as he looked at Billie in front of him, her body stiff as she looked on towards a bloody and beaten Arthur.

Closing his eyes, Alfie cursed himself for not thinking about the wounded man behind him. He was sick with the thought of what Billie must think of him. 

“Billie,” He tried to approach her warily, but she shrugged him off as he reached for her.

Turning around, she looked Alfie in the eye, her teeth clenched. “This is only roughing him up a little? Alfie, there’s not an inch of him that’s not covered in blood!”

Alfie looked regretful, but he wasn’t ashamed. His job was his job, and he’d always do what needed to be done for the survival of his bakery and his empire. He just wished she didn’t have to see his misdeeds.

Walking past him, towards Ollie. Billie spoke softly. “You have to fix this. I don't care what you have to do. Fix this.”

Alfie didn’t say a word as he watched her with a clenched jaw. He would handle the situation with Billie at a later time.

Turning from her, he stalked towards Billy Kitchen who was still being held back. “Take ‘im before the coppers come. Alright. Take ‘im and tell Thomas there’s been a misunderstanding. Go now.”

Billy nodded, gulping back his fear at the man in front of him. Picking Arthur up, one of Alfie’s men went for his other arm, dragging him out of the room. 

The noise was getting louder as the Blinders trashed Eden Club, the shouts and loud bangs of gunshots coming closer as the police made their way in, called by Sabini to support the plan and stop the violence.

Alfie looked distraught as he looked up towards Ollie and Billie, both stood there watching him.

He prayed to no end that Billy and Arthur made it out without getting arrested, it was his only way out of this mess.


End file.
